XIII.

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𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚈

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𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚈.

$$$

      Image's fingers gripped the perfectly rolled blunt in her hands. Its elliptic smell infiltrated her nostrils as her almond-shaped brown orbs swiveled towards the back of her head. She hissed as the grueling headache, she had been pardoned with, continued to cause her distress. With a slight tilt, her head maneuvered towards the edge of the couch as she took a long pull of the euphoric substance.



A seepage of smoke spilled from her mouth as the vivacious sound of her phone's ringtone continued to erupt throughout the atmosphere.




"Oh my God," Her acrylic nails swiped along the tip of her forehead, ridding it of any and all sweat beads, "Shut the fuck up!"



Her phone had been going off all morning. Calls swooning back and forth from an unknown number. She knew exactly who it was, and with the way, the spread of numbers appeared on her screen it was clear that it belonged to a burner phone.





"I need this motherfucker to catch the hint," She spoke to herself just as her phone fell to a silence, "Thank God," She threw her head back in despair and sunk into the leather sofa.




Burrr! Burrr! Burrr!




Within seconds, he was right back at it. She smacked her lips together and snatched the phone from her glass coffee table. With the swipe of her right thumb, Image answered it and pressed it tightly to her ear.




"What the fuck do you want?!" She berated.





"You need to leave Houston."




"How do you know where I am?"



"You don't keep that much of a low profile Image," Yair revealed, "Out of all the occupations you could have picked up, you decide on stripping? Your face is plastered up on promotional flyers every other week, and once I learned your alias all I had to do was search up your hashtag. It wasn't that hard."



Image pursed her lips to the side, he was making her blood boil. Just the sound of his voice alone had her ready to explode.


"I'm not leaving, I have protection now, so when and if he comes looking for me, I'll be ready."


"Protection?" He questioned, "Protection? Do you know who the fuck we are dealing with? There's no such thing as protection when it comes to them. That man especially. Almost everyone that was involved is fucking dead! You understand me? Honour is gone, my child's mother is gone, Keishawna is gone, Roc and Petey are gone. Citrus is gone! Image, he is on a mission. We are the only two left, so what the fuck makes you think there is anyone or anything that can prevent him from getting to you?"



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